Chapter 2 - WHAT WAS UNDER THE MATTRESS
I lifted Theo’s mattress.
A black plastic disc no larger than a quarter had been taped beneath it.
For three seconds, nobody spoke.
Then the device clicked.
Theo screamed.
Miles immediately followed.
Nora pressed both hands against her ears and began sobbing.
My security chief, Marco Bellini, crossed the room in two strides.
“Don’t touch it.”
I looked at him.
“You know what it is?”
“I know what I think it is.”
“That isn’t an answer.”
Marco pulled a signal scanner from the emergency equipment cabinet and passed it slowly above the crib.
The screen jumped.
His face hardened.
“High-frequency emitter.”
The pediatrician frowned.
“For what purpose?”
Marco looked toward my children.
“To cause distress.”
Something inside me went cold.
Not rage.
Rage was loud.
This was worse.
This was the silence that came before I destroyed something.
Marco removed the device with insulated forceps and sealed it inside an evidence pouch.
I turned toward Miles’s crib.
He started screaming before I reached it.
There was another emitter beneath his mattress.
Then Nora’s.
A third.
Sophie still sat on the rug holding the old cloth doll.
Elena had one arm around her.
I looked at the little black object Sophie had pulled from the doll.
“Same thing?”
Marco examined it.
“Similar casing. Different power source.”
“Meaning?”
“This one is probably portable.”
Sophie whispered, “It clicks when I move it.”
Marco crouched several feet away from her.
“Can I see it, sweetheart?”
Sophie looked at her mother.
Elena nodded.
She placed the device into his gloved hand.
I watched Sophie carefully.
She was four years old.
Small.
Quiet.
Brown curls escaping from the ribbon Elena tied around her hair that morning.
And somehow she had noticed what four nurses, three nannies, two doctors, and my entire security detail had missed.
“Why did you bring the doll upstairs?” I asked.
Sophie looked at me.
“Because the babies were crying.”
“That doesn’t answer my question.”
Elena stiffened.
I regretted the tone immediately.
Sophie did not.
She simply hugged her knees.
“The doll makes the bad sound.”
My chest tightened.
“And you knew they heard it?”
She nodded.
“I hear it too.”
Marco glanced at me.
Most adults could not hear frequencies above a certain range.
Children sometimes could.
“Where did your mother find the doll?” I asked.
Elena answered this time.
“In the east laundry room.”
“When?”
“Yesterday afternoon.”
“Why did you take it?”
“I thought someone had thrown it away.”
Her voice became defensive.
“It was sitting beside the donation box. Sophie likes dolls. I washed it for her.”
“Who had access to that room?”
Elena’s face changed.
“Almost everyone on staff.”
Marco stood.
“I’m locking down the estate.”
I nodded.
“No one leaves.”
One of the nannies gasped.
I turned.
Her name was Cynthia.
Twenty-six.
Employed seven months.
“What?”
“Nothing, sir.”
“You reacted.”
“I’m just worried. My mother is sick. I was supposed to go home tonight.”
“You’ll call her.”
Her face went pale.
Marco noticed.
So did I.
But before I could question her, Nora’s crying suddenly intensified.
The pediatrician lifted her.
“She’s overstimulated. We need to move all three children somewhere else.”
“Use my bedroom.”
The nursery became a crime scene.
Within twenty minutes, Marco’s team found six devices.
Three beneath the mattresses.
One behind the rocking chair.
One inside the air vent.
And one hidden in the stuffed bear my sister had given Nora for Christmas.
Six.
This had not been done impulsively.
Someone had entered my children’s room repeatedly.
Someone had handled their bedding.
Their toys.
Their air vent.
Someone inside my house had deliberately tortured three eighteen-month-old children.
I stood beside the nursery window while Marco photographed everything.
“When were these installed?”
“Different times.”
I looked at him.
“How can you know that?”
“Dust patterns. Tape aging. The vent device has probably been there several weeks.”
Several weeks.
I thought about the nights the triplets had awakened crying for no obvious reason.
The sudden fear of their nursery.
Theo refusing to sleep unless someone stayed beside him.
Miles banging against his crib rails.
Nora covering her ears whenever the white-noise machine turned on.
We had blamed teething.
Nightmares.
Separation anxiety.
They had been telling us.
We had not understood.
My stomach twisted.
“Find who did it.”
“I will.”
“Tonight.”
Marco looked at me.
“That may not be possible.”
“It wasn’t a suggestion.”
Behind us, Sophie spoke.
“The lady said the babies were bad.”
Everything stopped.
I turned slowly.
“What lady?”
Elena went pale.
“Sophie?”
The little girl looked confused by the sudden attention.
“The pretty lady.”
“What pretty lady?”
“The one with shiny shoes.”
Elena crouched.
“Sweetheart, when did she say that?”
Sophie pointed toward the doll.
“When Mommy found Dolly.”
My pulse began beating harder.
“Was the woman in the laundry room?”
Sophie nodded.
“She said babies cry because they’re spoiled.”
Marco crouched again.
“Do you know her name?”
Sophie thought.
Then shook her head.
“What did she look like?”
“Yellow hair.”
Half the female staff had blond hair.
“What was she wearing?”
“A white coat.”
Cynthia suddenly dropped the glass of water she was holding.
It shattered.
Everyone turned.
She stared at Sophie.
“I’m sorry.”
Marco’s expression sharpened.
“Why are you nervous?”
“I’m not.”
“You dropped a glass.”
“I’m tired.”
I walked toward her.
“Who wears a white coat in this house?”
“The nurses. Sometimes Mrs. Laurent.”
I froze.
Camille Laurent.
My late wife’s older sister.
My children’s aunt.
She had been staying at the estate for three weeks.
After Isabelle died giving birth to the triplets, Camille had positioned herself as the grieving aunt who could help me understand what babies needed.
She criticized nannies.
Doctors.
My parenting.
But she adored the children.
At least, that was what I had believed.
“Where is Camille?” I asked.
Nobody answered.
Marco touched his earpiece.
“Find Ms. Laurent immediately.”
A guard responded.
Then another.
Marco’s eyes hardened.
“She’s not in her suite.”
“When was she last seen?”
“Forty minutes ago.”
My gaze moved toward Cynthia.
She was shaking.
“You know something.”
“No.”
“Look at me.”
She did.
Barely.
“If you helped someone hurt my children, silence will not protect you.”
“I didn’t hurt them.”
“But you know who did.”
Her lips trembled.
Marco stepped beside me.
Cynthia suddenly started crying.
“Ms. Laurent told me not to ask questions.”
“About what?”
“The packages.”
“What packages?”
“She had small boxes delivered through the staff entrance. She said they were medical equipment for the children.”
My blood turned cold.
“How many?”
“I don’t know. Five? Six?”
“When?”
“Over the last month.”
“Why didn’t security log them?”
“She said they were personal.”
Marco looked furious.
That rule would never exist again.
“Where did she take the boxes?”
“Sometimes the nursery. Sometimes her room.”
Elena covered Sophie’s ears.
I appreciated it.
“What else?”
Cynthia shook her head.
“That’s all.”
I did not believe her.
Then the security lights outside suddenly shut off.
Every light along the north lawn went dark at once.
Marco swore.
His radio erupted.
“Boss, we lost the north cameras.”
Then another voice.
“Garage door opening.”
Marco grabbed his weapon.
“Camille.”
I ran toward the hallway.
“Adrien!”
Elena’s voice stopped me.
I turned.
She stood holding Sophie.
Fear in her eyes.
“Your children.”
That was all she said.
She was right.
I wanted to chase Camille personally.
But three terrified children needed their father more than vengeance needed me.
I looked at Marco.
“Bring her back alive.”
He nodded and disappeared.
I went to my bedroom.
Theo, Miles, and Nora sat together on my bed.
The second they saw me, all three reached for me.
I gathered them as carefully as I could.
Three small bodies pressed against my chest.
Their mother had died bringing them into this world.
I had promised her I would protect them.
Tonight, I had learned someone had been hurting them beneath my own roof.
“I’m sorry,” I whispered.
Theo grabbed my collar.
Nora pressed her cheek against me.
Miles whimpered.
Then Sophie appeared at the doorway.
She held the doll without the hidden device now.
The triplets saw her.
And relaxed.
Sophie climbed onto the bed beside them.
She began telling them a ridiculous story about a rabbit that hated carrots.
Within minutes, Miles stopped crying.
Then Theo.
Then Nora.
Elena watched from the doorway.
Our eyes met.
“Thank you,” I said.
She seemed startled.
Perhaps I did not say those words enough.
My phone rang.
Marco.
I answered immediately.
“Did you find her?”
“We found the car.”
“And Camille?”
“Gone.”
My jaw tightened.
“Where?”
“Vehicle abandoned near the south gate.”
“Search everything.”
“We are.”
Then Marco paused.
“There’s something else.”
“What?”
“We checked her suite.”
I looked at my children.
“What did you find?”
“Photographs.”
“Of what?”
“Your children.”
My chest tightened.
“That isn’t strange. She’s their aunt.”
“No.”
Marco’s voice became darker.
“Not family photographs.”
A pause.
“Surveillance photographs.”
I stood slowly.
“What do you mean?”
“Pictures of the nursery. Their schedules. The guards. Elena.”
I looked toward her.
She went completely still.
“And Sophie.”
Elena grabbed her daughter.
“Why Sophie?”
Marco continued.
“There’s writing on the back of one photograph.”
“What does it say?”
He hesitated.
“THE GIRL HEARS TOO MUCH.”
The room suddenly felt colder.
I looked at four-year-old Sophie.
The child who had found the devices.
The child who had saved my triplets from something none of us understood.
Camille had known about her before tonight.
May you like
Which meant Sophie had not stumbled into this by accident.
And somewhere outside my gates, a woman who had already targeted my children now knew the little girl who exposed her secret was still inside my house.
